


The Umbrella Academy and the Dastardly Doctor Terminal

by B0nk3rs



Series: Bored of Being Nameless [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Medical Torture, Misunderstandings, Past Child Abuse, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Robot/Human Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:02:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B0nk3rs/pseuds/B0nk3rs
Summary: In which Five gets kidnapped, ends up in the apocalypse and saves Ben's life. Featuring Pogo's guilt, Grace's inability to care about human life outside of her children and Umbrellas!





	1. F is for friends who do stuff together

It was so easy to be swept up in Vanya's music. Playing the violin (or the cello, or the double bass, or the-) was the one time she appeared at ease with herself. Vanya did her best work under the appearance of nobody watching, song swelling to fit the theatre with every pass of her bow.

The spotlight went out and Vanya looked up. A redhead in the empty stalls squealed and started clapping. On stage, Vanya grinned shyly at her. 

"Maybe you should go solo!" The redhead playfully heckled. She tried not to curse herself when instead of smiling wider the violinist's face fell. Anais, the redhead, climbed into the pulpit to get to the stage.

"Can you imagine?" Vanya asked she handed over the violin before climbing awkwardly offstage.

"Yes," Anais insisted, steadying the small brunette and brushing imaginary dust from her shoulders. Vanya's smile came back bigger and Anais blessedly didn't swoon as she lead their way out of the Icarus theatre.

Anais XI, Anxiety MMMMM. But they were working on it.

In sync, they waved at Jay the technician and stepped back into the real world.

* * *

Maurice felt like weeping. His wife was unconscious next to him, his children were terrified- it was just supposed to be dinner! Instead, it was a home invasion.

"If you do anything other than what I tell you, I shoot her." Maurice was threatened. The speaker jabbed a gun at his wife. His kids started to sob through their gags. Maurice just nodded jerkily as he was yanked to his feet by his bound hands.

"Don't-" Thud.

The gunman had dropped suddenly.

Maurice was thrown onto his wife. There was a yell from behind him. His pulse raced. His kids were staring in wide-eyed silence. Gunshots. Glass breaking. Maurice struggled to sit up without crushing Elena. A man yelled something, there was a crash. Footsteps.

It was silent aside from the sound of his heartbeat. He got to his knees in time to see someone slide out of the open window. The next second a phone landed in his lap, already ringing:

"Nine-One-One, what's your emergency?" Maurice let himself cry in relief, they were saved.

* * *

Luther woke up and stretched. Lights on over his bed.

Luther got out of bed and stretched. His arms were too long to be fully extended to either side of him. Lights on in the cabin.

No breakfast because if he wanted to eat anything for the next two weeks he couldn't waste food on breakfast. Luther watered Patrice.

Luther scratched and gathered his rubbish into a rubbish bag.

Luther got dressed in the space suit. Lights off in the cabin. Open airlock. Close airlock.

Luther put the rubbish by the bin. It was overflowing.

Watch the sun rise over the Earth. Luther sat down.

Breathe.

* * *

_I want you to put your hands in mine and whatever you do, don't let go._

But what about the Monster?

_Don't think about the Monster right now, you need to hold on._

I won't let go.

_Don't._

But I can feel It, the Monster-

 ** _Ben_** -

-'s here! **I _can't_ let it get you!**

"Ben?"

He rolled over until light was shining through him. Klaus was sat upright on the top bunk. He stared blearily at Ben. Ben stared back.

"Yeah, Klaus?" Rehab was great high or sober cause the dead didn't act that different from the living. Junkies 

"What do you think Luther's doing right now?"

Klaus woke like clockwork at three am each night and asked about anything or anyone he could remember. The price for even temporary sobriety Ben supposed.

Last they'd heard Dad had caved and sent Luther back into space, only the best for Number One. "Space Mission," he offered.

Klaus nodded like that was a decent answer and was out again in minutes. Still upright because 'it's pretty funny'.

Ben yawned and stayed lying over Klaus, he'd wake with his brother and maybe they could order some decent food in the morning. Rehab never severed waffles.

* * *

'Go.'

Lights up, walk to centre stage.

'Head up, shoulders back, boobs out.'

Turn to face the audience.

'Right hand on your hip, keep your toes pointing forward, tilt your head and turn your shoulders their way.'

Stop.

'Smile, you've got a secret.'

Look stage left.

'Smile for BBC News.'

Look stage right.

'Smile for Fox News.'

End Scene.

* * *

The sun was shining, birds were tweeting and the 24th of March was shaping up to be a beautiful day. Klaus had gotten decent water pressure this morning, nobody had stolen his stuff and Ben had changed into something other than his black hoodie. A blue hoodie!

Why did Ben act shy even when dead, Klaus was not sure but if he found out he'd be sure to tell someone.

"Ugh," groaned Jenny. Jenny was a grown woman who acted like a teenager and refused to be upright without coffee. Jenny was who he wanted to be when he grew up.

"Morning Jenny!" He chirped, sliding over his toll to the Dragon. Ben rolled his eyes at the familiar routine. 

Jenny dropped into the chair across from them to inhale her first coffee. Ben pulled out a copy of Alice in Wonderland while they waited. Jenny was still hopeful about the impact of rehabilitation centres despite the alarming coffee dependence, it almost made Klaus feel bad that he was going to quit.

Almost.

Knowing her she'd congratulate him on escaping the system or something weirdly chipper. He poured her another mug with sugar, she was too good for this place, working with recovering junkies- the least he could do is pour her a decent coffee every now and then.

Ben eyed him reprovingly, "Caffeine addiction is still an addiction." Ben was no fun.

"At least it's legal." Klaus beamed back and snapped an arm through Ben to turn on the radio. His brother glowered. Jenny raised her head and frowned, she's been waiting to ask about his side commentary to Ben since he'd started actually working here. Ben thinks he should just spill which is cute, it's not like it's always ended in disaster before, Jenny will _definitely_ be different. Not.

The news stops his train of thought in its tracks.

"-inald Hargreeves has died. The late Sir Hargreeves was famous for his Olympic fencing gold, his work on the Chimpanzee and the creation of the Umbrella Academy superhero team."

 _What_.

"What?" Ben is staring at the radio book abandoned. Dad's dead. Jenny is still drinking coffee. 

The _late_ Reginald Hargreeves.

Dad's dead.

"Klaus?" Jenny gets between him and Ben. She's taller than him but she's not, oh he's sat on the floor. Okay.

 _Dad_ 's dead.

"Klaus, it's March twenty-fourth two thousand-nineteen, my name is Jenny Milton, you're in the kitchen of Mercy Jones Rehabilitation centre. The time is seven-thirty am. Klaus, it's..."

"I'll meet you at the house," Ben declares shakily. His hand swipes through Klaus' hair on his way out. He doesn't look back.

"...is seven thirty-five am. Kla-"

"Okay." Jenny stops and blinks mildly bleary eyes at him.

They sit, crouch in her case, like that with the radio and Klaus' heavy breathing as dramatic ambient sound. Dad's **_dead_**. Ben _left_ to get to the house early for some reason. He's _sitting_ on the floor with his co-worker staring deeply into his eyes.

He pushes her away so he can stand up. No, he's not having a panic attack he's just out of breath. Shit!

New plan for the day: call a taxi, grab some clothes, attend a funeral. This is a terrible day to be sober.

"You alright now?" He turns to consider Jenny, he also needs the day off.

* * *

Lights up, Spotlight on: Allison Hargreeves.

"Allison!" "Look this way for me!"

"Over here Allison!" "Pose for me!" "Face left!

Allison smiles blandly at the rabble of shouting reporters and camera flashes. They call out her name and requests for her to face them, some of them ask questions about her divorce or daughter.

One reporter looks down at his pager and asks:

"Miss Hargreeves I'm so sorry for your loss."

'That's not in the script.' The vacant smile turns sharp, she almost parts her lips.

"Miss Hargreeves are you going to the funeral?" A blonde woman says.

'Who's funeral?' Allison thinks.

"Allison who will you be wearing to the funeral?" The third is silenced by his own cameraman, between flashes she can see pity on their faces.

'Who's dead?' She nearly screams. Luther? Diego? Klaus? Is it Vanya? Did they find-

"Miss-"

A hook around her elbow to yank her offstage. "It's your dad." Her stylist speaks before she can make him.

She redirects them so she's the one leading him, Herman tripping on her train as staff clear her a walkway. She pushes him into a hedge and snaps her fingers at him. There's no way-.

"It's your dad," He defends like she's Diego or Luther, "Your dad! Got the call when you started your walk, heart failure, couldn't catch up to you." He babbles something else but she's already rewriting the script, all those lines are cut, that scene is gone.

Her father was dead and the media found out before she did.

"Call the car," Herman nods, instantly pulling out his radio and averting his eyes. She doesn't snarl at him but she wishes she'd Rumoured him.

Cut!

* * *

Ben arrives just before Allison gets out of her car. She looks tired. He hasn't seen her in person since the wedding, it could be any of the numerous stressors caused by parenthood or her career making those lines on her forehead.

"Probably not parenthood," he decides, leaving her to drag a fuchsia suitcase through the gates.

Pogo waits in the foyer and Ben almost walks through him. He freezes almost nose to nose with him and peels back to look at the chimp, Pogo's gotten grey in his old age. Last time Ben had seen him...

He walks past him when Allison comes through the door behind him. Foyer with its grand staircase, living room with Five's creepy portrait, dining room still set for eight. He stops behind his chair.

All the chairs are pushed in aside from the one at the head of the table which is just like Dad. He probably didn't die sat at the table but Ben takes a moment to imagine the man slumping face down into his soup.

It's not as satisfying as he hopes it would be and Ben leaves to go find one of the other small numbers. Luther probably found out first.

* * *

An alarm starts to blare. Luther, in the laboratory cabin, takes his time in carefully finishing his experiment. He records the results and settles in to write an observation by hand. Luther hesitates to include another request for more food as Dad is already aware of his need for more food.

He stands up and suits up. Luther opens the airlock. Luther closes the airlock.

The computer starts to print out the telegram when Luther inputs his own code. Passwords even when Luther is twenty hours away from the nearest person.

He freezes.  


 

> **NUMBER ONE. THE MONOCLE IS DEAD. RETURN ASAP. POGO.**

  
Luther tries to breathe. Luther tries not to cry. Luther tries not to feel relief.

 

> **Return ASAP.**

He ignored the telegram and Dad is dead.  

 

> Return.

Luther opens the airlock.

* * *

He comes in through the window as he so often does and Eudora is sat at the table which is not so often. Even more unusual, she smiles at his entrance. She's got the kitchen radio on the table along with her police radio and two empty mugs.

Something's not right.

Diego slides the window closed behind and sits at the table across from Eudora. She's in her pyjamas, no lipstick but yet to remove her foundation. She sighs, breath still minty she'd stopped her nightly routine to do this, whatever _this_ was.

Their eyes meet and she scowls. "I can hear your internal commentary and I know it's not flattering."

He grins, leans forward to make a snarky comment but Patch puts her hand on his arm and looks at him. It's something serious then. Patch tends to stay separate from Eudora at home.

"It's about your father..."

* * *

They're walking past an electronics shop when Vanya stops dead.

 _Oh shit_ , Anais thinks numbly. Vanya's shoulders sag and it's like she can hear the creak of that white-knuckled grip. Wind pushes firmly at Anais. She takes her friend by the shoulders and firmly steers her to a nearby bench. Her friend sits down heavily and Anais stands in front of her to shield her face and emotions from the finicky weather. 

Vanya breathes like there's not enough air for the scream she wants to make, Anais would scream if she found out like this. Vanya doesn't scream. Even for her shitty brother. Reginald Hargreeves is dead but his daughter found out through the News? Not for the first time she wondered what was wrong with these people.

* * *

The Umbrella Academy, formerly the Umbrella Company and the Hargreeves House has three fully stocked infirmaries and forty-nine unused potential bedrooms. There are seven fully furnished bathrooms, five watertight rooms, and four additional toilets. There is a half Olympic-sized pool with locker room attached. There is a rifle range. There are three greenhouses. There are four soundproofed rooms and a dark room. There are two fully stocked classrooms. There are five marked graves and mausoleum.

There is no room for Grace.

She washes the unused bedding every six months and puts it back on the beds under dust covers. The children's rooms are updated with new bedding every three years. It is the only thing she changes about them.

Sir Reginald wants his sheets washed every two weeks and replaced every four months.

Pogo does his own laundry which is for the best.

Over the course of a fortnight Grace routinely maintains the Umbrella Academy, greenhouses, lawn, empty rooms, shopping. When the children were still children Sir hired a gardener seasonally, tutors of all sorts and a housekeeper to cook or clean. After learning of her 'inanimate' status they would remark upon her ability to perform as a mother, somehow they didn't see the irony of her situation.

By two thousand-three Grace had personally given unemployment notice to all but one of their superfluous staff. Even more personally she'd served as the vessel for a full contract termination twice.

Humans, she noted, were ill-equipped for high-speed collisions. Had she done the same to Sir, he would have still been breathing when the ambulance was called.

The death of Sir Reginald was therefore exceptional with her level of autonomy. Contract termination for Huda Ali and Rhys Whitten had involved rewiring of her morality code and a hard reset each.

Pogo had approached her after breakfast to bring her to Sir Reginald's office to inform her of the plan.

"In order to prepare for the coming apocalypse, the Umbrella Academy needs to be reunited once more." At her side Pogo nodded, he'd seemingly already agreed to this plan. "This will be accomplished by the announcement of my death in late March when they arrive for my funeral Number One will convince the others to investigate when he realises my monocle is not among my artefacts at which point Pogo will show them the security footage of my room in my last moments."

Pogo interrupted him then, "You won't be faking your own death?" It was perplexing how much emotional dependence Pogo placed onto his bond with Sir Reginald, she'd calculated his worth to their creator and it wasn't much.

"When Number One convinces Four to use his power to its full potential they'll be capable of summoning me for guidance and then I can finally rest," Grace noted the satisfaction in his voice and ignored the signs Pogo showed of emotional distress. He was still in shock when Sir Reginald focussed his gaze on her.

"Grace, I'll need to adjust your first aid protocol. If you attempt to resuscitate me then -"

"I won't attempt to resuscitate you, Sir," she curved her lips into a smile.

"-you." Both males seemed to be experiencing a minor state of shock. "You won't attempt to resuscitate me? Your first aid protocol is already modified then, that will prove sufficient."

Grace didn't understand how a deep deviation in her baseline code was excellent even if it served Sir Reginald, however, those close to death or at advanced age were said to have differing views on life and death. Sir Reginald's age was extremely advanced.

After the meeting Grace restocked the kitchen, the children would be home soon and she should familiarise herself with their favoured foods again. Adults were said to become embarrassed when shown such affection by their mothers but Grace had observed that was due to spoken intent and patronisation. While she considered a throat was cleared in the doorway.

"Yes, Pogo?" Vanya had never particularly taken to any sort of food Grace had made, perhaps she should try something new. Perhaps it was just her medication.

"Your first aid protocol is still intact."

Grace blinked and paused and turned to face him. He looked fragile, he'd been digging his nails into his cuffs and his hand gripped his walking stick tightly. He was distressed.

"Isn't it, Grace?" She didn't respond verbally, they both knew her first aid protocol was intact, she always dropped everything when he got sick or couldn't make it up the stairs. She'd done it just that morning.

"My first aid protocol prioritises humans, to avoid caring for the animals the children brought home I am not to perform a medical procedure on any other species unless it consents." She turned back to the meal plans. She didn't continue yet though, Pogo rarely sought her out without meaning to engage in serious conversation.

"What are you implying?" She considered. This was an unanticipated data point. Perhaps her coding was lacking in other ways. "Grace!"

"Pogo, were you unaware of Sir Reginald's status as non-human?" It always distressed Pogo when she smiled and faced him so Grace watched him through her periphery cameras instead. His grip on his cane was two-handed and he appeared to be shaking his head slowly from side to side. His eyes blinked from a wider than usual positioning and his jaw gaped like a broken window. He was still standing there so she turned her head and shoulders around to watch him. Grace smiled widely at Pogo and said nothing. She didn't stimulate breathing or blink or allow for any of her most humane features to shine through because she's not human. The uptick in his breathing and the way his eyes twitched between both of hers suggested fear- Pogo regularly forgot that Grace charges even though he's sat on her station with her many times. Pogo is intelligent and Grace's friend but his bias towards organic life remains.

"Do you need anything else, Pogo?" Grace asks him. She does not blink.

"No... No, thank you, Grace," he returns. His lip's got a spasm that Grace knows is related to civility and her unnatural conduct. Grace turned back to her duties. Pogo would alert her if he needed her, eventually. 

Pogo avoids her until she's required for her part in Sir Reginald's death.

Grace has never wanted for anything outside of her children's needs. She's incapable of it. But, as she leans forward to collect the Monocle's monocle she wants. Her processor decides that she should feel his pulse, it's more suspicious than just ignoring his heart stopping. But, her processor reasons, watching him die and not helping is just as suspicious. He said to act suspicious. But, her processor argues, he's dead now and you watched him and felt his pulse and you've acted outside parameters.

She pulls back with the monocle and observes the corpse on the bed. How anomalous, acting outside the orders given to her. She bids the corpse goodnight and tries to not feel satisfied.

* * *

 

His assistant knocks and her steps echo in his darkened office. She's a brunette with a tendency for heavy makeup like the rest of the administration staff he hires. Her voice is rot sweet and he looks up to see if she's decaying too.

His assistant stands haloed by the corridor light, one stiletto in front of the other and a sheaf of papers clutched to her breast to shield against the dark. She swallows and looks tentatively in his general direction.

"Doctor? I've got yesterdays paper." Sweet rot compels him.

"Tell me the exact date," she reacts to his voice like to a live wire, stiffening briefly like a corpse. She's well trained, relaxing enough to bare even teeth in a smile, to take several steps forward into a dark room inhabited by a man she can't fully see, to hand him the newspaper with a steady hand.

"It's the Twenty-Fourth of March Two thousand-Nineteen, sir," his assistant responds.

He glanced down at the paper, WHEN IT RAINS Sir Reginald Hargreeves dead, and back up to her. Her smile is as fake as the length of her nails yet twice as striking. He dismisses her.

Alone in the dark, it's reflexive to look again at the paper. He can't see in the dark but how could he forget those repulsive faces, that uniform, that Monocle, the masks. The Umbrella Academy.

With a bellow of rage, he whips the contents of his desk onto the floor. Doubtless, they are all cloistered up at their base, grieving the loss of their handler.

Outside his office three of his stylish assistants huddle, morosely waiting for his fit to cease. A blonde carries a suitcase, the first brunette an overcoat, a second her own pink handbag. Something shatters against the inside of the door.

All wince and retreat half a step. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Grace and I'm so sorry about the tense but [REDACTED]  
> Anais 11, Anxiety 5000


	2. U is for You and Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five leaves exactly as he does in the show and the preceding years remain the same  
> This is a countdown to The Boy himself!

On the morning that their fourth brother storms out of the house, they assume he'll return within a week. It's not the first (or last) time Five's left them in suspense to explore something while really sulking but he's never done it at dinner before. Or been quite so angry about it.  
  
When the week stretches out without a sign of him - breadcrumbs, moved books, Seven being secretive- the small numbers assume he's still mad. Five's been talking about time travel since he worked out how gravity works, too long for any regular child. It's the only fiction he shares with Luther. Diego and Five tried to work out if Diego could live in space. Even Allison wanted to know more about stars, though more to get people to orbit her. Five loves time travel and sci-fi and Dad just shit all over that while making Five look stupid- if it were Diego he'd stay gone for way longer than one week.  
  
"So chill out already!" He said pushing Klaus out of his room at curfew.  
  
But Five didn't come back after two weeks either. The big numbers, minus Five, have always felt more strongly and shown it less. Five writes, Ben reads and Vanya plays music. Or Five wrote, Ben read and Vanya played music because none of them are doing their stoic thing now they're down a number.  
  
Ben's been rude and snappy and threw Allison into Luther when she wasn't paying attention in training. Vanya's been checking all the good hiding spots with a sandwich in her pocket, she nearly made Luther cry from behind her clipboard yesterday. Dad almost looked approving.  
  
Three weeks and everyone's ansty except Mom and Dad. Klaus's been without high on pain of Bentactle murder cause Vanya thinks Five's dead if he's not back yet. Ben is in agreement if the staredown he's getting is the case. Klaus disagrees.  
  
Five is the only other one who gets the need to leave, to dawdle on missions for an extra five seconds away from the house. Five always said he was the smartest but he also always came back. If Five was really smart, he'd just leave and stay gone.  
  
In December Vanya interrupts training by snatching Dad's clipboard right out of his hands. Nothing interrupts training. Nobody interrupts Dad.  
  
~~Five might have done it~~  
  
It's not technically still training, they're getting notes then it'll be Break, at least it would have been if Vanya had stuck to her role.

Vanya looked as shocked as the rest of them but then turned cold. Dad gestured wordlessly for the clipboard but rather than hand the thing back, Klaus's little sister dashed the thing on the fucking courtyard cobbles (figuratively). Like a boss.

Like, she just snatched from Dad and threw what prize she gained onto the floor. In front of him. In his face!

She wasn't even apologetic, Vanya just looked pissed.

Dad's expression is getting sterner too.

Nobody disrespects Dad in front of an audience.

~~Five did it~~

"Number Seve-"

"Fuck _you_ ," Vanya spits at him. She glares at her siblings and then dramatically storms into the house.

(She will never return to training)

There is a moment of thick silence where no one dares breathe, too busy looking cautiously at their father (and incredulously at the door). Ben breaks it, stumbles a nervous step out of line, licks his lips under blistering scrutiny and mutters something about the toilet. He dashes past with his eyes on the grass and they can hear him break into a sprint as he clears the threshold.

Nobody speaks.

Klaus desperately wishes he was still even the slightest bit high rather than this out of body experience. He can't bring himself to look above eye level for fear of making eye contact with his father. He can't look at the fucking clipboard because he might _lose_ his _mind_. He can't look at the door without thinking about It. ( ~~Leaving and never returning and what if Ben-~~ )

Peripherally, he sees Luther jerk to a sudden stop. Diego probably grabbed him before he could speak, but it still draws Dad's attention and the other three of them wilt as their father turns his oppressive gaze on his Number One.

"I see," the man says after a minute of giving Luther the most scathing silent inspection ever witnessed. His head swivels round a beat afterwards and Klaus knows he's been given his own death sentence.

He makes them run as a group until they collapse from exhaustion. He's turned it into Luther training or something cause when Klaus buckles he is slung over a sweaty shoulder. Allison makes it one round like that before lunging off of him and retching miserably into the grass. Luther has to pick her up again and continue. Diego, the sadist, pushes himself until nearly Luther's own collapse cause he's a fucking prick.

Luther, of course, sinks down to his knees after a lap of carrying all three of them. He apologises and they all blearily raise their heads to see that they have been abandoned. Dad never leaves training.

They still don't go inside or move from Luther until Mom comes out and tells them to wash up for dinner. She cheerfully hauls Allison and Diego off from Luther (as Klaus is most recovered) and stands him up to look like he's not flagging desperately.

Dinner is subdued with Ben standing guiltily alone with a blank Seven. He reflexively looks for Five in their midst. He apologises, Vanya does not and the next day they continue without their brother or punishment.

The day after the Painting is unveiled.

Vanya is silent.

* * *

Ben has already gotten over the novelty of all his siblings in the same house again. He loves them dearly, but they can't see him except Klaus. It's something that he thought he might enjoy while being dead but then hated. A decade on he's just ambivalent.

"I guess we should get this started," Luther said. Ben was sat on the floor behind him reading War and Peace, again. He'd seen his eerily preserved room, seen Mom cheerily dusting, seen Pogo quietly grieving and that was all there was to the house. Aside from the hunting trophies.

Allison had settled in, Diego was skulking and Luther was fucking huge. An already deep chest was a barrel and he was acting like preteen Vanya trying to hide it. Seriously, there was no hiding those arms even with that ridiculous coat.

"I thought they said it was a heart attack," his little sister volunteered.

And that was another thing. He couldn't believe Vanya had the audacity to come crawling back. Still looking just as unremarkable as the last time he'd seen her, doing a book reading in his favourite bookshop, the 'prodigal' daughter had returned for a better story.

The Horror stirred and Ben exhaled slowly. ' _Just hold onto me and calm down_.'

He tuned in back in just as Klaus was making a mess of things.

*

"I can't just-" he scoffed. "I can't just call Dad in the afterlife and be like," he made what might have been a phone with his hand. "Hey, Dad? Could- could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment to take a quick call? Yeah, no."

"Since when?" Luther pressed looking frustrated, "That's your thing."

"I'm not in the right," Ben rolled his eyes, "frame of mind," Klaus finished. Ben scoffed this time.

"You don't want to," he called. Klaus ignored him.

"You're high?" Allison deadpanned. She's smiling a little but it stings that she thinks she's right. ("Ouch," says the peanut gallery)

"Well, no. I'm apathetic!" He cheers raising his glass in a toast, the rest of his siblings eye him sceptically. Fuck them honestly. "I'm only here so I can claim my inheritance and see the rest of you."

Luther spluttered and Ben saluted him with his book. It took everything in Klaus to not start cackling like his dead brother, Vanya looked like he's announced his plan to marry their niece (shocked, disgusted and hopeful he's joking) and Diego and Allison looked unsurprised and (in Allison's case) guilty.

Before Klaus could get his comeuppance for saying what they all should have been thinking, and from the look of rising upset on Luther's face it would have included a lecture the likes of which has never been seen before, they're interrupted.

"It's so nice to see all you together again!" By Mom.

She beams at them all like it's been a few weeks instead of over a decade. She's wearing all black but carrying one of Dad's coats and an umbrella with her hair down for once. Mom looks different and it's a pretty good look on her.

"Mom?" Here comes the complex, Diego steps forward and he looks nearly sweet, "Are- Where are you going, we're having the funeral in the courtyard."

She blinks at him and pats him gently on the cheek, Diego's always been her favourite. "I'm just going to get your brother, dear. He said he wasn't sure how to get here from his hotel."

Mom gives him her umbrella and pulls on Dad's coat. They all stare at her.

"Uhhhh," Ben leans over the back of a sofa and they watch her button up with swift fingers. "Is Mom malfunctioning?"

He's unknowingly echoed by Allison. She shares a bemused look with Luther but Diego is already right there.

"Mom, Klaus is here already he doesn't need picking up."

She laughs, merrily plucks her umbrella out of his hand and starts for the door, "Don't be silly, dear, I mean your other brother."

Ben vaults over the sofa while the rest of them stare after them in shock. Klaus, Diego and Vanya practically leave skid-marks as they try to squeeze through the doorway at once. Luther and Allison are not far behind.

Luther does a headcount automatically; One, Three, Two, Four, Seven, (no Six). That's all of them. Unless...

* * *

She reviews the pictures she's been presented with. Dot sits in front of her shamefaced. She should be, this was a gross mishandling and they both know it. This failure should not have happened at all.

The pictures are of all the living Hargreeves children, one week prior to the Apocalypse, staring back out of their glossy paper. Vanya Hargreeves with emotional support and a therapist. Klaus Hargreeves sober and holding down a job. Diego Hargreeves working with a detective. Five Hargreeves holding a _briefcase_.

"Dot," the woman flinches, "This is an unacceptable failure."

"I know."

"Then you understand that you will no longer be in charge of this situation."

"I know."

"Good." The Handler blew plumes of smoke into the space between them. Dot did her best not to cough.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Dot? You've always done such good work in the past but lately, you're slipping."

She took another long drag in and exhaled. "Do you feel we're asking too much of you, Dot, is that it? Do you need some time off?"

"No."

"Then how do you explain this, this situation?"

Dot swallowed drily. "I. I allowed myself to underestimate the target. I didn't factor in-"

She stopped. The Handler grinned back at her.

"You 'didn't factor in' the target's intelligence? You 'didn't factor in' the target's determination? You let the target grow into a threat, Dot. A threat with a briefcase." The Handler stood and leant over her desk to make direct eye contact with Dot. "Is that what happened, Dot."

It was what happened.

Dot swallowed again and nodded her head.

The Handler sighed out smoke again. She shook her head remorsefully. "I'm very sorry to hear that, Dot. I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go. You've fallen from the high standard that we require those in Corrections to maintain, I'm sure you understand."

Dot shook like a bobble head.

"Good, good." She helped Dot to her feet and shook her hand firmly before ushering her out the door. "Good luck in your next position, I'm truly sorry our working relationship had to end this way."

The Handler shut the door and exhaled again through her nose like a dragon. This was an unfortunate setback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7, 6, Handler, 4- wait a second  
> so the handker is smoking a cigarette  
> i was going to end the bit about vanya with klaus hearing her and ben talking or sth but i didn't and now i feel enlightened
> 
> this is also on ffnet bc why not


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